


yuletide

by loopunderground



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Celebrations, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gift Exchange, Gift Giving, Kissing, Other, Traditions, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28273281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loopunderground/pseuds/loopunderground
Summary: “You did not need to get me anything beloved.”“Well, you got me something so I guess we’re as bad as each other.”OR: Hound and Elliott celebrate their first holiday together.
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	yuletide

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays everyone!
> 
> this is just a sweet, festive fic of these two! inspired by both [what's a mistletoe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862846) by kittymsmith and [hands on your waist, arms around your shoulders](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657075) by crowkiiing which are two BEAUTIFUL miragehound fics oh my god please give them a read if you haven't already
> 
> i did a bunch of research into yule traditions and there was a lot of conflicting info so if i got anything wrong i am so sorry!
> 
> so without further ado, i hope you enjoy!!

Bloodhound’s home always smelled nice, Elliott had noticed. It was always full of earthy tones that were grounding and had some kind of strange, calming effect that he’d never experienced anywhere else. But now it was the holidays their home smelt even better than usual, filled with the scents of evergreen, cinnamon and berries. There were garlands strung up and holly draped across various surfaces, with candles lighting up the rooms. It looked incredible, everything appeared to be handmade and Elliott was impressed with the sheer volume of effort he could tell they’d made. In fact he was really happy to be there, and had been looking forward to it for a while. The pair of them hadn’t been together for all that long in the grand scheme of things, they were going on for about six months, but it was their first holiday celebration together, and he had been very curious to learn about how Hound celebrated the holidays. He was aware that they were celebrating Yule and not Christmas, but he was still trying to work out what the differences were. He was enjoying working it out though, since admittedly he wasn’t actually someone who celebrated Christmas all that much anyway. Sure, he did all the bells and whistles, decked the bar out with tinsel and put a tree in the corner that was absolutely rammed with decorations. And of course across the season there were holiday themed drinks that went on the menu (“To have the holiday spirit you have to provide the holiday  _ spirits…  _ Hey, wait, c’mon guys that one was good-”) and not that he let anyone forget but he’d been in charge of the holiday event for the games, which he’d enjoyed profusely. 

So the run up to Christmas? Heaps of fun. Big fan of that. Had personally revelled in the look on Renee’s face when she put on the ugly sweater he’d given her.

The day itself? That… Was less fun. 

It didn’t use to be. He used to love Christmas. Eating a feast with his family and swapping gifts, wearing ridiculous party hats and telling terrible jokes was something he had looked forward to every year. But after his brothers went missing things just hadn’t been the same. He’d never noticed how much noise they all made until they vanished. Every Christmas after that had been so silent. And then his mom’s memory had started going and he’d had to deal with that too. For the past several years he’d spent Christmas going to visit her and cooking her the best meal he could, like the way she used to cook for him and the others. More often than not her memory seemed to work a little better with the bigger events, she rarely forgot who he was. Although he had to smile through gritted teeth when she asked when his brothers were going to turn up. He didn’t have the heart to tell her, not at Christmas, always made up an excuse (“Nah mom, they said they can’t get here until the day after, we’re gonna have a delayed celebration with them then! It’s just you and me today. We’ll see them tomorrow.”). He wished so desperately that he could give her them back, but all he could do was just try to serve her a meal so good that she would be distracted enough to forget that it was just the two of them. That it had been for years and years. 

His plans were not much different this year, although he still had a couple of days before he headed out to visit her and so he was determined to get some time in with Bloodhound. So there he was, settled on the couch, trying to take in his partner’s happiness rather than dwell on his own holiday misery. So far all was going well, it had been a very pleasant day; he’d come over around mid-afternoon and now it was well into evening, the sun having set many hours ago. They’d done some baking together, Hound had wanted to make a gingerbread recipe that was traditional to them and Elliott had helped where he could, always eager to assist in the kitchen; though after a while (and some nudging from Hound) he stepped back and simply watched them go about their baking, as he relaxed with a glass of homemade eggnog in his hand. They had a smudge of flour on their cheek and it was so adorable that he daren’t point it out in case they tried to rub it off. There was something about seeing them maskless that still made his breath catch and his heart race, even after these past few months. Something about knowing that Hound trusted him, that they were comfortable around him to bare themselves like that without any kind of fear made him… Well he wasn’t sure why he of all people was granted such an honour, why he was so trusted, but it was something he treasured deeply, and he never ever wanted to do anything to fracture it. 

Whilst they’d waited for the gingerbread to bake, Elliott had managed to convince them to dance with him. Bloodhound had protested at first and said they did not know how, but Elliott had simply taken their hand in his and held them close and swayed gently with them, as some soft music played from his phone. He’d grinned at them and lightly teased them for being so hesitant to try something so simple as they’d rocked slowly from side to side, until a quiet had fallen between them, as they both let themselves cherish the moment. 

Regrettably the sound of the egg timer had brought an end to their dance, and Hound stepped away to remove the gingerbread from the oven, dusting some icing sugar over the top to finish them off. They’d presented them on a plate, adamant that they wouldn’t be as good as anything Elliott made for them. This however was a lie since Elliott took one bite and then put his hand on his heart to exclaim how good they tasted. Hound had seemed a little embarrassed by that, and grumbled that he was teasing them, but Elliott assured them he was sincere in his statement. Besides, he never really baked much. Cooking yes, he adored cooking but baking? That was a different kind of skill that evidently his partner was pretty good at.

It had been a few hours since then, with most of the gingerbread eaten, and they’d settled down to watch a film that Elliott had brought over, which had finished and now they were left cuddling up together on the couch, under one of Hound’s many throws and blankets. 

“I’m glad we got to spend time together.” Elliott admitted, currently laid on top of his lover, who was busy playing with his hair, gently weaving their fingers between his locks. 

“Oh?” They murmured, their voice as comforting as always.

“Mmm. I wish I could stay longer.”

“We still have tonight beloved. I would not wish you to be apart from your family, it is important that you are with them.”

Elliott felt a little bad, knowing that Hound didn’t have their own family to return to anymore. Not that he had much of his own lineage left, but at least his mother was still alive. 

“You’re my family too y’know.” He mumbled, a little embarrassed, but it made Bloodhound smile, and they leant forwards to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Blessi þig kærasti . When you return we can celebrate the New Year together, if you do not already have plans. Are you hosting a celebration?”

“Nah, Tav’s got that covered this year. I kinda wanted to spend it with you, so this works out spl-spen- perfectly.”

They went back to stroking his hair again, and he rested his head back on their chest, allowing himself to be soothed by the quiet thumping of their heart. The candles were still burning strong on the mantelpiece where underneath there was a fire burning away, warming up the whole house. He’d kept quiet about asking up until then, but now that things had calmed from earlier, he couldn’t help but let his curiosity out.

“So,” he started, still keeping his head in place, happy to let Hound play with his hair, “don’t feel like you have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“What a wonderful way to begin a sentence.” Hound remarked dryly.

“Hey I said you didn’t have to answer! I was just wondering if y’know, you do all this every year? I mean, don’t get me wrong! Your place looks great, it smells wonderful, you pulled out all the stocks here. And I know that Yule’s different from Christmas but… Doesn’t it… I mean, isn’t it lonely? To do all this each year and not have anyone to celebrate with?”

Hound seemed to think this through for a moment, and Elliott was honestly a little surprised when they replied.

“Sometimes. It is not the same by oneself of course, and very much tamer by comparison to what I did as a child but I have made do over the years. But I was never completely alone, I had Artur after all. And now I have you.”

“Yeah?” He asked, propping himself up on their chest so he could look at them properly. “What sort of stuff did you do as a child?”

“Many things, a lot of our celebrations were done together with the whole village for the solstice. When Yule begun every home would burn a log for twelve days straight, and I was always picked to help fell the trees that we would give out amongst our people. It was a responsibility I was always excited for… Something I perhaps took a little too seriously at times. Oh, what else… There was much eating and drinking as I’m sure you can imagine. And plenty of singing as well. We would light many candles to encourage the sun to return, and often the young ones would go around each home handing out fruit, which I also did before I was old enough to handle the logging responsibility.”

“Wait a second, are you telling me the great Blothhundr sings?”

Hound rolled their eyes fondly and smiled at him. “You will never know.”

Elliott figured he’d drop it for now, but there was no way he was letting them get away with that - he would find a way to hear them sing sometime. 

“Sounds like fun. I’m not surprised you were excited for the activity that needed an axe.”

“I have no idea what you mean, I was simply honoured to be trusted with such an important task.”

“Yeah yeah, sure thing babe, I’m sure you got absolutely no enjoyment from getting to swing an axe about.”

“Ómögulegur maður…” They murmured, pinching his cheek gently, whilst a faint flush appeared on their own.

He wanted to tease them a little further, but thought better of it and settled back down against them. It was rare for them to be so open about their history, even if it was in a positive light, and he didn’t want to end up genuinely annoying them with his prodding and poking. It was only innocent curiosity, but he could leave it be for now, he cared more about their comfort than his own questions. The fire roared away to keep them warm and with thoughts of a young Hound celebrating in mind, Elliott let his eyes wander over the living room, taking in all the decorations properly. It wasn’t quite the tinsel and twinkling lights he was used to, but the candles and holly were similar enough that he still felt festive anyway. Although, as his eyes followed a particular string of holly up the walls, he was drawn to several sprigs of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling beams above them. Elliott raised an eyebrow and pointed up at it, watching Hound’s face carefully as they followed his hand.

“You hang those up every year?”

“Hm? The mistilteinn? Yes, they protect against spirits and are known for healing. It is good to have them around the house.”

“Huh… I mean we hang up mistletoe too but it has a different meaning for us.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, if you find yourself underneath it with someone then you have to kiss them.”

“Well,” Hound let out a sly grin and tilted their head, “you had better kiss me then. I would hate to go against tradition.”

Elliott could feel them smiling still as he obliged their request, kissing them softly. Honestly, with how they made him feel, he didn’t need the fire to keep warm, not when he could kiss them like this, slow and soft and full of love. They sighed contentedly as he pressed a brief kiss to the tip of their nose before moving back to their lips. He wanted to spend more time with them, he realised, he wanted to celebrate properly, wanted to learn more about their traditions and celebrations, wanted to make their own traditions together. More than anything, he just wanted this thing between them to last.

Hound pulled away from him, with a sparkle in their eyes and fondness in their expression. “I have something for you.”

“Really?” Elliott sat back, still reeling from their kiss a little, allowing them to sit up and disappear from the couch for a second. They’d not discussed getting each other anything, although that hadn’t stopped Elliott, but he hadn’t expected something from them in return. They sat back down next to him and gently took one of his hands and placed into it a beautiful looking goblet. 

“Bloodhound…” He murmured, turning it around in his hands, running his fingers over the details, “Where did you…”

“I made it.” They replied, looking both proud and a little shy. “The cup is carved from the horn of a beast I slatra last season, and I shaped the wood from a tree felled in the forest. I know you have many glasses in your bar but they can shatter so easily… I wanted to give you something perhaps a little more sturdy. One you could call your own.”

One he could call his own. They smiled softly at him and he felt his stomach do flips, and without thinking he leant forward, his free hand cupping their face as he kissed them with all the devotion he was capable of. They blinked slowly when he pulled away, looking at him with wonder and surprise. “Elskan…” They breathed, clearly having not expected such a reaction.

“I love it.” He said.  _ I love you _ , he wanted to say but stopped himself, too afraid of scaring them off. Things were going well between them, and he didn’t want to fuck things up by running his mouth like he always did. Even if it was true… He wanted to be good enough for them. That meant not getting ahead of himself and pouring his heart out when they weren’t ready for it. He could wait for them. He’d wait forever if he had to.

“I’m glad.” They replied. The smudge of flour was still on their cheek and it made Elliott’s heart flutter. He wanted to kiss them again but after being presented with such a beautiful gift, he wanted to give them his own. Compared to what he’d been given it hardly felt worthy enough, but it was the least he could do to show that he cared. “Hold on just one sec…” He said, carefully placing the goblet on the coffee table in front of them next to the mostly empty plate of gingerbread, before he went to retrieve his gift from his coat hung up by the doorway, holding it carefully behind his back as he made his way over to them again.

“You did not need to get me anything beloved.”

“Well, you got me something so I guess we’re as bad as each other.”

They smiled sheepishly from the couch as he psyched himself up. “Okay,” He started as he sat down, “it’s fine if you don’t like it or if you think its dumb. I just noticed you had all these books and at first I was like hey, I should get them a book! But I didn’t actually know what kind of book to get you and I didn’t wanna get one you didn’t like and I figured you’d catch me snooping and I couldn’t ask without it being obvious, cause these things are supposed to be surprises right? Uh… Anyway, recently when you were round at mine Artur left something behind and I figured well hey, that could work so… Since you read a lot, this might be of some use to you?”

He took their hand, as they had with his earlier, and brought his other hand out from behind his back and placed a bookmark into their palm. It was pressed from one of Artur’s feathers, preserved as carefully as he could. He’d had to get help making it, but he thought it looked kinda cool. He worried that maybe it was weird, didn’t know whether it was some kind of bad omen, but that worry disappeared when he saw Hound’s face light up, their fingers tracing gently over the bookmark.

“Elliott… Ástin mín… This is beautiful.”

“Ah, it was the least I could do.” He said, a little embarrassed. Obviously he’d hoped that they would like it, but they were looking at it as though it was something unbearably precious. There was a book propped open on the coffee table, which they took and slid the bookmark into before placing it back down. They kissed Elliott on his cheek, taking his hand in theirs and squeezing it gently. “Thank you.” Hound murmured. “Ég elska þig.”

“I don’t know that one… What does it mean?”

“You are too kind.”

“Well you know me, nice guy all round. I’m really glad you like it though.”

“I adore it.” They lifted his hands to kiss his knuckles and he felt his heart stutter, that they could make him feel so cherished with such a simple gesture. 

“Come lay with me again?” They asked. “I want to hold you.”

Elliott could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. “Uh s-sure! You got it!”

They laid back in the position they had been earlier and Elliott immediately slotted himself against them, hiding his smile against their chest as they pulled the blanket back over them both and immediately wrapped their arms around him. The log in the fireplace continued to crackle away as they settled in, and for the first time in many, many years Elliott felt hopeful. Hopeful that maybe this time of year didn’t have to be as lonely anymore, that maybe although there were things in his life he may never get back and people he would never see again, there were still people he could hold onto and cherish. Maybe… Maybe he didn’t have to linger on old memories so much anymore. Maybe it was time to start making new ones. 

He curled his hands in Hound’s jumper as he thought about what they could do in years to come, if he didn’t screw things up. Next time he could bake properly with them, or perhaps they could teach him their recipes. And he would get them to sing, he wanted to hear them sing in Icelandic, knew that they’d protest but would end up having a beautiful singing voice because every single thing about them was beautiful. He leant up to press a kiss to their jaw, and buried his face in their neck, letting his eyes slip shut.

“Happy Yuletide Houndie.”

“Happy Yuletide Elliott.”

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> Blessi þig kærasti - Bless you darling/loved one
> 
> Ómögulegur maður - Impossible man
> 
> Mistilteinn - Mistletoe 
> 
> Elskan - My love
> 
> Ástin mín - My love/My darling
> 
> Ég elska þig - I love you
> 
> *****
> 
> bloodhound, stringing up the mistletoe around their home, knowing FULL WELL what elliott's association with it is, and stringing more up just in case he Somehow misses it when he comes over lskdjfsdf
> 
> please leave comments if you can!! 
> 
> and as always you can find me at:
> 
> tumblr - [doubletaptrigger](https://doubletaptrigger.tumblr.com)  
> twitter - [loopunderground](https://twitter.com/loopunderground)


End file.
